The Grey Zone Read online

  “Now I’m embarrassed I was so cynical,” Jack replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Where’s my compassion?”

  “Probably in your holster,” Laura replied.

  * * *

  At 5:30 p.m. Friday, Jack followed a resident through the lobby doors of the Burnaby high-rise. Moments later he located the Toyota Supra in the underground parking stall, then went outside to his own car.

  “The car is there,” Jack reported. “The stalls are numbered, though not with apartment numbers, so we still don’t know which one they’re in.”

  “So we wait,” Laura said.

  It was 10:00 p.m. before the Toyota Supra emerged from the parkade, with the team following. Thirty minutes later, Llanzo and Tarone entered a men’s club in Vancouver called the Hedonic Palace.

  “Well, ladies, unless you want to pose as strippers, I suggest you let me do the inside coverage,” Jack said.

  “I don’t know, maybe I could make enough in tips to buy us a fridge,” Laura said.

  Inside the club, Jack spotted Llanzo and Tarone seated close to the stage, ogling the stripper performing in front of them. He saw an empty table in a darkened corner and headed toward it. I remember, you don’t like it when people look at you.

  As the night progressed, Jack noticed the club bouncer joining Llanzo and Tarone at their table on several occasions, sometimes gulping down a shooter of liquor with them before returning to his post at the door.

  On another occasion, Jack observed a stripper catching the bouncer’s eye while he was at the door. She lightly touched her nose — the bouncer gave a nod, then followed her into the back.

  Jack waited for the bouncer to return and take his position at the door before walking past him to leave. A neck tattoo that read FTW caught Jack’s attention.

  Once outside, Jack went over to where Laura and Alicia were sitting together in Laura’s car and leaned in through the window. “They act like regulars and are friends with the bouncer, who’s putting out coke to the strippers. His name tag identifies him only as Leo. About my height, husky, clean-shaven, with an FTW tattoo on his neck.”

  “FTW?” Alicia asked.

  “Fuck the world,” Jack replied. “Very common tattoo with bikers.”

  “There’s staff parking in the back,” Laura noted. “Want us to scoop some plates?”

  “Do it, then we’ll meet back at the office.”

  The bouncer was quickly identified as Leo Ratcliffe. He was thirty years old and had a record for assault and drug trafficking, and seven convictions for possession of stolen property. His address listed him as living in a suite in a house in Port Coquitlam.

  “I’ve got something else,” Alicia noted. “When I ran his name it listed him as being a member of the Devils Aces, an outlaw motorcycle club, out of Hamilton, Ontario.”

  “Interesting,” Jack said. “I bet he keeps a low biker profile here. That club has been at war with Satans Wrath. If they caught him, he’d be in for a beating, or maybe worse. Could end up on the wrong side of the grass.”

  “So what’s the next step?” Laura asked.

  “It’s a long weekend, so on Tuesday let’s confirm if Ratcliffe lives at the address on his driver’s licence. I’d also like to dig up background info on him out of Ontario.”

  “Do you have any contacts in the Ontario Provincial Police?” Alicia asked.

  “I know someone in the OPP Biker Enforcement Unit,” Jack replied. “After that I’ll do a report on these guys and note that an informant identified Peter’s brother as being involved in a kidnapping.” He eyed Alicia. “That’s where you come in. Around the end of next week I’ll give you the honour of calling MCU to tell them you’ve identified one of the kidnappers and to arrange a meeting for us to turn over our file.”

  Alicia bit her lip, then nodded.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Alicia called Sergeant Hawkins on Thursday morning while Jack bent over her desk to listen in. She felt like the words were getting stuck in her throat. Was it from the excitement of having identified one of the kidnappers, or the pressure of knowing how they’d really obtained the information and the scam she was taking part in.

  Alicia blurted out, “We’ve got a break in the Chung kidnapping!”

  “What?”

  “I’ve identified one of the kidnappers,” she said quickly. “The Intelligence Unit had some info about a kidnapping, but hadn’t connected it. They’d thought it was between drug dealers, but I checked. It wasn’t. It involved David Chung.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. My bosses, Sergeant Taggart and Corporal Secord, want to set up a meeting and turn their file over to you.”

  “Alicia, this is fantastic. I’ll need to round up the people who’ve been involved. It’s almost lunchtime now … how about two p.m.? Can you come to our building? That would be easier, seeing as a lot of people here will want to sit in on the meeting.”

  Jack nodded. “No problem,” Alicia said. “We’ll be there.”

  * * *

  A few minutes before the meeting was to start, Hawkins decided to pay a visit to Connie. She was all smiles until he told her Alicia’s news.

  “Son of a bitch!” Connie said angrily. “How long has Alicia been over there?”

  Hawkins was surprised at her reaction. “She started a week ago yesterday,” he replied. “I thought I’d stop by because you’ve worked with Taggart, right?” He eyed her curiously. “I’ve heard a few rumours about him over the years.”

  “I know him well,” Connie stated. “Too well. That son of a bitch! He’s already got her into something twisted or evil.”

  “What’re you talking about? This is the break we’ve all been praying for.”

  “I guarantee you, if Taggart’s involved, you’ll end up transferring the file over to my side of the office.”

  “Homicide?”

  “If you let him anywhere near it, at least one body will turn up eventually.”

  “They’re turning the file over to us.”

  “Yeah, right. Turn around so I can see a monkey fly out your ass.”

  “You don’t think they will?”

  “He probably has to because it falls within your domain, but I’d be damned careful if he remains connected in any way.”

  * * *

  Alicia returned a wave from her former colleague, Corporal Devon Bradley, as she sat down beside Jack and Laura in the conference room. She gave Hawkins a warm smile when he sat directly across from them. He was stone-faced. Looks like you’re as tense as I am. No worries, wait until you hear what we’ve got.

  “Shall we start?” Jack asked.

  “By all means,” Hawkins replied.

  “Prior to Alicia’s transfer to our unit last week, we were investigating a person by the name of Peter Powers, whom we suspect of being a cocaine trafficker.”

  Guess that’s true, Alicia thought. I hadn’t officially started yet when we identified him.

  “As you can see in this copy of my report,” Jack said, sliding it across to Hawkins, “Peter Powers is connected to two other people of interest to our unit.

  “Those being Llanzo Brown and Tarone Smith,” Hawkins said as he scanned the report.

  “Correct,” Jack replied. “We know Llanzo and Tarone are also connected to a fellow by the name of Leo Ratcliffe. We haven’t confirmed if Peter knows Ratcliffe, but the person who’ll be of interest to you is Peter’s older brother … Derek Powers.”

  “Hold on a sec,” Hawkins interjected. “Your report says that Ratcliffe is a small-time dealer putting out to strippers and living in a basement suite in Port Coquitlam.” He eyed Jack suspiciously. “Are you telling me that your unit, which deals with organized crime, is interested in someone selling grams of coke to strippers?”

  “We’re always trying to look at the bigger picture,” Jack replied.

  Alicia struggled to keep her face neutral. She felt Jack’s foot nudge hers.

  “These three men m
ay be only the tip of the iceberg,” Jack continued. “Ratcliffe is a member of the Devils Aces out of the Hamilton, Ontario, chapter. They’re spread throughout eastern Canada and have been at war with Satans Wrath for several years. If Ratcliffe has been sent here to see about opening up a chapter, then the war out east will be brought to our doorstep.”

  “That means shootings and bombings amongst innocent citizens,” Laura noted.

  “Furthermore, Llanzo and Tarone are both Jamaican,” Jack added. “The Jamaicans also have a formable drug distribution network in many major cities across Canada. If they’ve joined forces with the Devils Aces, it is of definite interest to us.”

  “I see,” Hawkins replied, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, I was simply curious. Thanks for explaining.”

  “Our information to date does not clarify whether any of this is taking place,” Jack said. “Perhaps they are only low-level drug dealers not worthy of our time, but until we know for sure, they’re definitely of interest to us.”

  “I take it your informant said that this group is involved in the Chung kidnapping?”

  “My informant provided information to identify Peter’s brother as being involved in a kidnapping. Upon reading our reports, Alicia questioned me about kidnappings, and I told her that it is not uncommon for bikers to grab someone, usually a wife or girlfriend, as collateral against some drug dealer who’s delinquent in paying them.”

  Yes, I remember that.

  “Alicia told me she’d worked on an unsolved kidnapping and wished to compare some CCTV footage from that case to a photo we had of Derek Powers.” Jack turned to her, smiled, and said, “Take it away, Alicia.”

  “It was a match!” Alicia stated. “CCTV footage of David Chung standing on the corner with the ransom money in a satchel shows Derek Powers behind him. In the footage it appears that Derek may be talking on his cellphone, but our theory is that he is actually checking Chung and the satchel for GPS transmitters.”

  “Your theory,” Hawkins reiterated.

  Come on, quit being so stubborn. That’s not like you.

  “There’s more,” Alicia continued. “Derek’s office is close to that corner. It’s called Powers Security Consultant Service. Besides the usual corporate and private security concerns he advertises, it’s rumoured that he does corporate espionage.”

  “Holy shit,” Hawkins exclaimed. “Then it makes sense. You really are on to something!”

  Damn right we are. Too bad you don’t know just how big yet.

  “Without Alicia’s persistence, this connection would likely never have been discovered,” Jack said.

  Finally, Sergeant Hawkins offered her a smile.

  “Is there a possibility that Peter Powers, Llanzo Brown, Tarone Smith, and Leo Ratcliffe are the other kidnappers?” he asked.

  “Peter may be involved,” Jack said, “but I doubt the rest are. In my opinion, whoever orchestrated the kidnapping wouldn’t trust people of Smith, Brown, and Ratcliffe’s low calibre. Their records are attached to the report — they show a long history of drug trafficking and violence. On a cerebral level, they don’t fit with the likes of Derek Powers.”

  “Let me ask you a direct question,” Hawkins said sternly. “Was your informant involved in the kidnapping?”

  Of course he was involved. He was the victim.

  Jack appeared to be surprised by the question. “As stated in the report, my informant didn’t even know Derek’s name. It was Alicia who made the connection.” He smiled knowingly. “I see where your concern is, though. You’re afraid that once you identify and arrest all the kidnappers, my informant could be among them.”

  “Yes … and then you’d try to cut a deal or something.”

  “No fear,” Jack replied. “The informant is clear of any arrest concerns, as far as kidnapping goes.”

  “What role do you see yourself and your unit playing?” Hawkins asked.

  “None,” Jack replied. “My informant is no longer in a position to assist with any of the names I’ve given you.”

  “None?” Surprise registered on Hawkins’s face. “So that’s it?” Surprise changed to suspicion. “You’re turning the file over completely?”

  “Yes. I’d like to be appraised if you gather any evidence to support whether or not the Devils Aces have linked forces with the Jamaicans. Or, likewise, if you hear that the Devils Aces plan to open a chapter in Vancouver — but even then I wouldn’t take any action until you give the go-ahead.”

  “Of course. I understand. Thank you,” Hawkins replied.

  “Derek Powers sounds pretty sophisticated,” Bradley noted. “I think the best way to proceed would be through the back door. Get Barry Short to do a UC on the dope dealers and meet Derek through Peter. Maybe in time Derek will trust him enough to talk about the kidnapping.”

  “Why not do a UC on Derek directly?” Jack suggested. “Like I said, the other guys are dumb and violent. I’m sure they wouldn’t have been selected to take part in something as sophisticated as —”

  “Cutting off a kid’s fingers is dumb and violent,” Hawkins stated heatedly. He paused. “Thank you for your input. You can leave now.”

  Alicia waited until they were walking to the car before venting her anger. “Some gratitude! I can’t believe how we were treated in there. He couldn’t wait to toss us out,” she fumed.

  “It’s okay,” Jack replied. “Some people are a little territorial when it comes to their investigations. As long as the job gets done, that’s all that matters.”

  “It’s not like Hawkins to act like that,” Alicia replied.

  “You said he was a good guy,” Laura noted.

  “Usually he is. I don’t know what got into him.” She glanced at Jack. “What were you going to suggest in there? Doing a UC on Derek right off the bat?”

  “Might save a lot of time,” Jack replied.

  “It’d be pretty hard,” Alicia said skeptically. “Nobody would bat an eye if you asked someone where to score some dope, but you can’t just go up to a guy and say, hey, I want to kidnap someone. Do you know anybody who could help me?”

  Jack smiled. “Actually, what I’d do …” He stopped. “No, never mind, it’s not our case. We need to move on. Maybe what they suggested will work.”

  It damn well better.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Constable Barry Short was an affable man with a stature befitting his name. He was a short, wiry individual who had a permanent happy-go-lucky smile on his face. It was these traits, perhaps, that helped make him a successful undercover operative. His size and good nature tended to put others at ease and he was never considered a threat to the hyper-masculine types with insecure egos.

  He entered the Hedonic Palace and saw Leo Ratcliffe standing nearby, arms folded across his chest.

  “Say, you don’t happen to know if someone in here drives a black Toyota Supra with a big spoiler, do you?” Barry asked.

  “Why?” Leo replied gruffly.

  “I put a scratch on it and don’t have a pen and paper to leave a note.”

  Moments later, Llanzo Brown, with Tarone Smith beside him, viewed the small scratch along the fender that Barry pointed out to them.

  “I was runnin’ across the street dodgin’ a car when I tripped and my fucking watch strap hit it,” Barry said, flashing the Rolex he was wearing. It, like the two heavy gold chains he was wearing, belonged to the RCMP. The gold earring he wore was his own.

  He shook his head in apparent self-recrimination before gesturing to the car. “It’s a beautiful set of wheels, man. I feel like shit for what happened.”

  Llanzo looked at the scratch. “It’s not all that long … or deep.”

  Barry handed him his undercover driver’s licence. It gave his name as Barry Alvin Randall, with a Calgary address. “Don’t know what it’ll cost, but of course I’ll pay for it. You can write down my name and stuff if it’ll make ya feel better.”

  “You’re from Alberta,” Llanzo noted.

&
nbsp; “I moved out here a couple of weeks ago. Haven’t changed it yet.”

  Tarone bent over for a closer look at the scratch. “They might be able to buff it out.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Llanzo replied.

  “I’m really sorry,” Short said. “Tell ya what, to start with, let me buy you guys a drink.” He smiled. “My friends call me Bar because of my initials. Also fits with Barry.”

  “Yo, I’m Llanz and this here’s Tarone. Sure, we’ll take you up on that drink.”

  They headed back toward the club. “By the way, nice watch,” Tarone said. “What ya do?”

  “I, uh, invest in different commodities.”

  Llanzo and Tarone looked at each other and grinned.

  “What’s so funny?” Barry asked.

  “That’s what we do, too,” Llanzo replied. He eyed Barry. “White or green?”

  “White,” Barry replied.

  * * *

  Almost two weeks later, early on a Thursday afternoon, Barry took a taxi to the Lougheed Town Centre, a location he knew was only a two-minute drive from Llanzo and Tarone’s apartment.

  So far his undercover operation had gone well. Although he had yet to meet Peter, Llanzo and Tarone believed his story that he was looking for a connection to ship a kilo of cocaine back to Calgary each month. They’d told him they could accommodate him in that regard, and two days ago, Llanzo had sold him an ounce as a sample.

  Up until now all their meetings had taken place at the Hedonic Palace. Today was different. He was to buy a kilo. A quantity which he hoped would allow him to meet Peter. The RCMP brass, after some cajoling, had authorized him to spend the money despite no immediate arrests taking place.